


our song has just begun

by nerdytardis



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Sleepiness, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:53:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21541762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdytardis/pseuds/nerdytardis
Summary: David in crisis and David in comfort(also known as "David falling asleep in cars")
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 7
Kudos: 161





	our song has just begun

**Author's Note:**

> there's a bit in "finding david" where david says he had to sleep in the cab of roland's truck overnight and it made me really sad so of course i had to write about it
> 
> title is from "goodnight and goodmorning" by hall & oates  
> sorry if there are any typos, i wrote this late at night and didn't really edit it

David was going to die. He knew it. 

If the cold didn’t get him, the wildlife would. Every scratch or creak sent David’s heart into another frantic rhythm. Visions of bears and serial killers danced in his head as he curled in on himself a little tighter and squeezed his eyes shut.

This was all a terrible idea. He should have known it was a terrible idea—it was the only kind he seemed capable of making recently. 

In the last 24 hours, he’d already made a fool of himself in front of Alexis and ruined his only real friendship. Getting killed in the middle of nowhere in an old truck seemed like a logical conclusion to his day. 

He just wanted to go back. He wasn’t quite sure where he wanted to go back to anymore but he knew more than anything that he didn’t want to be _here_ , laying on his side in the bench seat of Roland’s truck, with his knees pulled up to this chest and a seat belt digging into his hip.

The last thing he’d passed before he had to pull over was some kind of farm, but he wasn’t going to go knocking on any doors until the morning. A shotgun to the face would be even less helpful than the worn springs and dirt he was currently contending with. 

His phone was almost dead. He considered pulling it out to text someone, but he wasn’t quite there yet. Texting Stevie would be almost cruel, and texting Alexis would be goddamn embarrassing. He could call his parents but they would be so dramatic about the whole thing and he didn’t want that either.

And that was it. There was no one else. 

He’d already cried too many times today. There had been hot, scared tears that he blinked away as everyone seemed to turn away from him. Then there had been the big, messy meltdown, the true bawl that had been building in him for so much longer than he wanted to admit and had finally roared its way to the surface as he drove away from his family in a stolen truck. 

So he didn’t cry this time. Instead he ran his hands through his hair and let the loneliness silently hollow him out. 

There wasn’t much he could make out in the blue shadows, so he stared at the old lightbulb sitting amid the rust on the dash. He couldn’t tell if it was grey with dust or if the dim moonlight had turned it that shade of off-white.

After a minute, he let out a long breath through his nose.

David knew he would fall into a fitful sleep eventually—he was exhausted and it was dark—but he dreaded the few hours between now and whenever he would finally fall into unconsciousness. Alone with his thoughts and his thumping heart, he knew that it would be some of the most uncomfortable of his life. 

\- -- - -- -

The sun was warm against his cool skin, gently pulling him from sleep. 

David blinked against the glare. He stretched his hands over his head and groaned at the crick in his neck. 

“Good morning.”

Patrick’s voice was as soft as the sun warming his face. David smiled and wished, not for the first time, that he could wrap himself up in it like a blanket.

“Morning.” David blinked sleepily at Patrick. The clock on the dash read 8:30. 

“We’re making good time.” Patrick smiled sideways at him, his voice still soft, “It’ll only be a few more hours.”

“M’kay.” David pulled his sweatshirt sleeves over his hands and tucked himself into the corner of his seat so he could keep watching Patrick behind the wheel. He took a moment to study his husband, the wedding band still a surprise to see on his left hand. 

“What?” Patrick glanced his way, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Nothing.” David shook his head, but his smile gave him away. “I’m just—” David shook his head again, the sunlight flashing across his eyes, “I’m just excited.”

Patrick smiled wider this time, unabashed and untamed. “Me too.”

Their eyes met and they shared a grin, before Patrick was looking back to the road. After another breath, David pulled his own gaze away and turned on the rental car’s sound system. He fiddled with it until he got it to recognize his phone. 

As he pulled up his music, a text popped up at the top of his phone’s screen. 

“Stevie says your parents just finished their goodbyes and are headed home.”

“Okay,” Patrick said, “We’ll text them when we get there.”

Another text popped up and David chuckled.

“She says that Ted made a scene at breakfast when your dad made a pun.”

Patrick snorted. “We shouldn’t have introduced them. We’re going to be overwhelmed with soft Dad jokes.”

David made an exaggerated grimace.

Patrick responded the exact way David wanted, with that bemused look that made his heart beat an extra rhythm. 

David finally managed to start the music. He put on one of their shared car playlists—the quieter one for early morning restocking trips and late nights coming back from dinner with Stevie. 

There was a “Honeymoon” playlist of course; he had painstakingly curated it. But David found that, in the moment, he wanted this one. It was well-worn and familiar, almost fuzzy in its predictability. 

Patrick made an excited noise at the first song and started to sing along under his breath. David smiled to himself and put the sound up a few more notches before he curled back up into his seat. 

The road curved ahead, and there were only a few other cars moving along with them. Patrick’s voice faded in and out as David slowly got pulled back towards sleep. He pillowed his head against the window with one arm, while he reached out with the other to find Patrick. 

His hand intertwined with Patrick’s, David fell asleep to the sound of an old folk song, his chest full and his heart warm. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
